Selenophile
by Cerulean Musings
Summary: selenophile (n.) - A person who is fond of the moon. The discovery of half a dead body in Beacon Hills preserve alerts Melanie Crowe that her role of being a teenage Alpha werewolf may soon be put to the test. • AU "what if" ficlet of my other Teen Wolf fic, Underneath it All •


****So, this is a snippet of an AU of my other Teen Wolf fic, _Underneath it All_ (shameless self-plug). I'm stuck on a scene in the next update for that and, as I worked on it I remembered a gif I stumbled across on tumblr. It was of Emily Rudd, the face I use for my Teen Wolf oc Melanie Crowe, edited with red Alpha eyes. Finding that again made me start to think of what would Mel and my fic be like if I written her as a werewolf? Not just a werewolf, but an Alpha? And, so, here we are! This was just the ficlet I needed to get my juices flowing in this fandom again. **********I may write more later but, for the moment, this was fun to get out of my head. Let me know what you think!******

******Also, if I do ever expand this to a full fic, this is what the full summary would be:******

******Melanie Crowe is eccentric, bubbly, amiable and…an alpha werewolf? She doesn't mind being underestimated and overlooked, it's what kept her and her family alive for so long. But what she _does_ mind is now, because of her two nosy friends, she has to simultaneously keep an eye on newly-turned Scott McCall, figure out who turned him, think about who she's going to make her first beta, and avoid a family of hunters that just came to town. You know, your average, every day, typical teenage priorities.******

* * *

**_Selenophile_**

**__**(n.) - A person who is fond of the moon.**__**

There wasn't much that could shake up the status quo in Beacon Hills. In fact, everyone seemed to turn a blind eye to the common goings on in the small town. The disappearances, the homicides, the animal attacks. All a notorious part of its rustic charm. So, when the news of a body being found in the woods of the Beacon Hills preserve began to be whispered one night in January, it went in one ear and out the other. Until the exact state of the body started to come to the forefront. A dead body is normal but _half of a dead body?_ Stop the presses!

"_What!?" _Melanie Crowe's outburst was quickly followed by a dribble of foam spilling over her bottom lip. Holding up a finger, she turned towards the sink and spat out a stream of bubbly toothpaste foam. It plopped into the otherwise pristine sink with a wet _splat._ She wiped the excess around her mouth with the back of her hand, smearing the residue on skin rather than the sea-shell covered towels hanging nearby. "Waddya _mean_ they found half a body?"

"Exactly what I said, Hummingbird," her father, Jean-Laurence, "Laurence" to everyone—he insisted his full name sounded a tad too stuffy; with a California backdrop, Mel couldn't help but agree—commented from the doorway. Even while leaning against the doorjamb, he took up a lot of space. Years of MMA training filled him out. While he looked like a solid mass to others, to Mel he was a giant teddy bear. "Out in the woods. Same place they found the deer."

"Which deer?" Mel asked.

Laurence lips pulled back on one side, forming a smirk. "The one that can _fly."_

_"Dad!"_

"The only deer that has any sort of importance. The one with the—" he poked his finger in the air and circled it, drawing an invisible spiral.

"Right. _That_ one." The only one that mattered. After all, it's been a while since the symbol for vengeance had appeared anywhere in Beacon Hills, or so her father reported. And on a deer of all things. It had thrown her for a loop when the news first came to light. Why put it on a living animal, Mel had wondered at the time. It was Laura Hale who'd put the idea in her mind that, whoever made the mark, wanted them to know about it. Wanted a moving billboard.

A roaming mark of death.

_Wait._

"Dad," Mel asked, stretching the word far beyond its normal syllable usage, "what kind of animal tears a body in half?"

"The worst kind."

Mel nodded slowly, tapping the end of her toothbrush against her chin for a moment before making a face. She, again, wiped off excess toothpaste and ran the head of the toothbrush under the water. Yes, of course. Because no _normal_ animal would take the time to break a body in half. There weren't wolves in California—_proper_ wolves—to do it, coyotes tended to stay away from humans, and she'd never heard of a bear doing that much damage during their attacks. So, it was all laid out for her, all made clear, just what sort of animal would do this.

"So, we're looking for a Wendigo, huh?" she asked, turning back towards her father. At his lifted eyebrow, she continued barely able to conceal her excitement. "See, I _knew_ there were Wendigos in Beacon Hills! It all makes sense! Because why else would the body be found in halves?" she rambled, gesturing wildly with her toothbrush as if it here a professor's teaching pointer, "so they can get to the insides faster, _duh! _And…and, some of the robberies at the cemetery? _Wendigos!_ Stealing jewelry and stuff has to be just a cover to get away with it. Like…the press would _definitely_ be all over someone stealing kidneys or something and—"

"Mel!"

Her father's curt tone stopped her all at once and silence settled in the small bathroom. She heard every tick-tick-tick of the of the clock on the wall. The kind with cat eyes and a tail that shifted with each second. It came with the house when they moved in years ago; she'd always meant to take it down and replace it but had never gotten around to it. It became like a touchstone, like a piece of normalcy and innocence that she could come back to every now and then when she needed a break from everything. When she needed to be transported back in time before she knew about the dark underbelly that ran just out of reach in Beacon Hills.

"Focus," Laurence continued, his voice softening in a matter of seconds. "That's not the kind of animal I'm talking about."

"I know," she conceded. She licked her mint-flavored lips and set her toothbrush aside. "I just don't want you to be right." Laurence unfolded himself and straightened in the doorway, studying her. She pressed her lips together and cleared her throat, ducking her head to get out of his line of vision. He had a way of being able to look right through her that she didn't particularly like. Maybe it was the look of a previous leader. And maybe it was the look of a concerned father.

He stepped further into the room and reached out of her. He gently laid his hand on her head, slipping it down to her cheek where he ran his thumb against the soft curve. She turned her face into his palm, nuzzling the warmth beneath her skin. A weary sigh made her body sag and she looked up at him, sorrow filling her big, blue round eyes. "Because if you are…I have an idea of who it is. And…and I don't want it to be her. I don't. It…it _can't_ be her, Dad."

"…You'll never know if you don't check."

She let out a humorless laugh. "Aren't parents supposed to keep their kids from sneaking out at night?"

"Only the normal ones."

Mel nodded. Her lips briefly pressed into a line. It was her turn to check the deer anyway. That was the plan. Wait a couple of days and, if there was no new news, go out and check herself. Her phone had been silent for days, but her mind had been loud in the interim. For her to go out in the woods and look for the spiral herself…that only meant there was a wrench in their plans. Or, in this case, a sword. "Tell Mom I'll be back in two hours. Tops. If I'm not, well…then I'll need some backup."

"You shouldn't go by yourself."

This time Mel laughed out loud. "Who said I was?" She turned to the sink where her cell phone sat, lying face up. She tapped the screen, illuminating a picture of Erica Reyes blowing a kiss to the camera. Her thick, black reading glasses and a few healing spots of acne on display. Erica hated the picture. Mel loved it. Beneath it numbers counted upwards as the seconds ticked by. "Can you sneak out past your mom, Eri?"

"I think I can," Erica's replied, her voice sounding small, far away, and tinny in the expanse of the bathroom. "If she finds out I can just tell her that I stopped by your place to get some clothes for the first day back."

Mel's smile only filled half her face. Unfortunately, it was a sound excuse. Mrs. Reyes—whom Mel wondered should really be back to Ms. Martinez at this point—put her foot down about a lot of things regarding Erica but when it came to fashion, she didn't say a word. It was hard to find clothes that Erica liked and didn't make her feel so defeated about her body and her condition. After many changing-room arguments, Mrs. Reyes finally took a step back on the fashion front. And, since half their clothes didn't belong in the proper closets due to many sleepovers over the years, it wasn't unusual for either to show up at one another's houses looking for shirts, jeans, or shoes.

"I'll bring some with me just in case she actually checks."

"Oh, good, because I have been meaning to get that sweater back that I loaned you."

"Which one?"

"That red polka dot one."

"Aww, man, I liked that one."

"Yeah, _so do I._ Which is why I want it back, Mellie."

"But what about—" Mel stopped right away when she saw the way her father looked at her: hard stare, set jaw, furrowed brows. She cleared her throat. "Okay, I'm leaving now. Be there in a bit. Wear good shoes." Mel ended the call with a tap to the screen.

"I should have known," Laurence said with a shake of his head. She wasn't sure if it was in amusement or reluctance. "I really should come with you."

Mel lifted her hand and shook her head. "You need to stay with Mom."

"You'll be weaker on your own. If something comes up—"

"If something comes up, they'll think that it's just two curious teenagers out past curfew," Mel pointed out, sliding past her Dad to head back into her room.

"You're giving hunters too much credit," Laurence said. "They could be lying in wait."

"They could be," Mel agreed, grabbing a sweatshirt off her desk chair. "But I don't think they're looking for snooping teenagers. They have a code, don't they?"

"If they decide to follow it," Laurence pointed out. "You know that saying about waiting thirty minutes to swim after eating?"

Mel snorted. "Who follows _that_ rule?"

"_Exactly._"

"Well, if something _does_ happen…this is why I need you to stay with Mom. I can protect Eri. I'm not exactly defenseless." She lifted her head and flashed her eyes to prove her point. They glowed ruby red for a few seconds and then faded a moment later. She shook her head at the rush of power that flashing her eyes sent through her and let out a slow breath, pushing it back down. She'd gotten in control of her alpha power surges in the past couple of years—going through two kinds of puberty at one time _sucked_—but every now and then the full moon could get the better of her.

"Neither am I." Laurence flashed his gold eyes in response. "I'm just saying…" he hesitated, fiddling with his fingers, "I'm stronger with you here."

"_Awww_," Mel cooed, saccharine tones practically forming a puddle at her feet, "I love you _too_, Daddy-o." She pulled the sweatshirt down over her head and smiled at the sequined picture of Pikachu's face staring back at her. "Seriously though, I get it. I know it's been hard for you to come to terms with not having your alpha powers anymore, _especially_ now—"

"I'd give 'em up for you again in a heartbeat," he stated. She crossed the room and hugged him tight around the waist. He pressed a kiss to her forehead and ruffled her hair.

"But Dad"—she backed away, taking his hand and gave it a squeeze—"you're going to have to let me be the Alpha at some point. Okay?"

He nodded; his adam's apple bobbed when he swallowed. "Okay." She slid out from his grip and had barely reached her open window, pushing aside her billowing curtains with a pair of Doc Martens curled in her fingers, when he spoke again. "If the hunters are back, we're going to need to start talking about you making your first Beta."

Mel paused on the windowsill, one leg still in the room and the other dangling outside. "_You're_ my Beta."

At that Laurence barked out a laugh. "I'm an _Omega, _remember? You didn't bite me—thankfully. That's not exactly a conversation I want to explain, in more ways than one." He sobered up a second later. "Seriously though…I may not always be there. You're going to have to think about it."

"I will," Mel said. She then tossed her shoes and a few clothes out the window. "After I figure out what's going on with this body."

"Be careful."

She turned and flashed a wickedly fanged smile at him. "Where's the fun in _that_?" she asked and then rolled out the window. Thankfully the drop wasn't too far, not that it would hurt her. She always found a way to land on her feet.

Gathering up her things, she then hurried down the side of the yard and to the truck that sat in the driveway. Not officially hers—_yet!_—even if she did drive it a lot. She thanked anything that would listen for the body being discovered in the winter; it was the off season for her mother's flower shop, so she had wheels within reach at any given moment.

She dumped her clothes into the passenger seat, quickly pulling a pair of jeans over her sleep shorts which were then followed by her boots. And as she turned on the engine and prepared to back out of the driveway, she opened her phone and checked her recent text messages. She highlighted the fourth name from the top, _Laura Hale._ Still nothing since the beginning of the month.

Grunting, Mel tossed the phone aside and backed out of the driveway. Either Laura Hale's phone died and she hadn't bothered to charge it or there were outside forces at play.

Either way, she was certain she'd get an answer in the woods. She just hoped it'd be in her favor. For all their sakes.


End file.
